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Chapter 34 - Thirty-Four: Frustration
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Chapter 36 - Thirty-Six: Creek
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... and boiled kippers was doing absolutely nothing for the nausea currently roiling in my stomach.
Or my patience.
I sat at the breakfast table, poking at a piece of dry toast with a fork that probably cost more than a small country’s GDP, wondering if anyone had ever actually murdered their aunt in this century and gotten away with it. There had to be legal loopholes somewhere.
Casimir sat at the head, buried behind a copy of the Tribune that looked thick enough to double ...
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